John wanted tea.
"Sherlock!" John called, rooting through the cupboard, "Do we have any Earl Grey left?"
There was no answer.
"Sherlock?" John asked, sticking his head around the door.
Sherlock was lying on the bed under a mound of pillows. John could just see the rise and fall of his breath. "Sherlock, what the hell are you doing?"
The mound moved slightly, and muted sounds issued forth.
"What was that?" John asked, patience wearing thin, really just wanting a cup of tea.
Sherlock threw a pillow at him.
"That does it!" John roared, grabbing the topmost pillow and bringing it down, hard, on Sherlock's exposed face. Sherlock's face twisted, and he nabbed a pillow himself and swung it at John's middle, knocking the veteran off his feet. With a yell, John tackled Sherlock, knocking the sociopath's head against the headboard of the bed.
"Ow!" Sherlock cried, throwing his arms around John's torso, knocking John down on the bed. Their faces were rather close, Sherlock noticed.
John raised an eyebrow, but didn't move. Sherlock looked at his friend, his ice-blue, but slightly tawny eyes calculating.
"Yes?" John asked, a smile quirking his lips. Sherlock couldn't look away from them. John moved underneath him, a tad uncomfortable.
"Are you attached?" Sherlock chuckled, remembering that awkward moment at the restaurant.
"Shut up," John smirked, his hand hesitantly resting on Sherlock's back.
Sherlock kissed John, wiping the smirk off his face. His friend stiffened underneath him, but then relaxed into the kiss, his hands tightening around Sherlock's shoulders.
Sherlock pressed hungrily into the kiss, a hand forcing it's way under John's neck, angling John's head better for snogging. John's knee was rather unfortunately pressed into Sherlock's growing erection, and Sherlock could feel John's smiling into the kiss.
Slyly, John slipped his hand down to Sherlock's crotch, just lightly stroking him through the thin material. With a moan, Sherlock came quickly, causing John to laugh and pull away from the kiss.
"You really haven't been out in a while, have you?"
"Shut up," Sherlock blushed, looking away, standing up to take off his sopping trousers. John just laughed harder. "What?" Sherlock snapped, getting angry, but still completely turned on by John's smile.
"It looks like you've wet yourself," John cackled, bent over his knees, at the same time trying to pull his jeans off.
In response, Sherlock ripped John's shirt off, tearing off a button. "Hey, don't-" John began, until his mouth was covered by Sherlock's lips.
"Hey John," Sherlock said suddenly, looking nervous and hovering above John. "If I...You know... Don't do something right... Tell me?"
John just smiled.
"I love you."
Sherlock stuttered, blushing again. "I...I love you, too."